Date: Sun, 29 Nov 2009 13:10:27 -0800 (PST)
From: Tim Stillman
Subject: yf/hs "Snow"
SNOW
By
Tim Stillman
It was just a joke, you know. It was deep December and snowfall looked
serene and friendly then. We had not had enough experience however, so we
sent him naked out of his steamy bath, pulled him giggling by his hard on,
his arms wind milling and his pale body all lobster red as Jed opened the
front door into freezing wind snow blow, out in the pillowy drifts of
winter, we tossed our happy angel with kisses on the way.
"Fly," Jed said as we closed the door and warmly looked between red lit wax
candles out the living room window and smiled at each other. Tad said we
should go out there with him and make love with him and be naked--we were
at that age when naked was a very impressive word and made us sound
impressive saying it--there was a dignity to it even when we were and it
made woody fights seem less fun--and somehow regal--and we watched fluffy
haired blonde boy rush boy tunnels through the snow--on all fours, then
crawling, then running, flopping over, extending arms out like an angel
ready for stained glass skies, then like Superman up up and away or like
Christopher Reeves' ballet twirl off to forever.
Jed put his hand on Tad's crotch as they smiled at each other, for they had
been happy so and when they found angel, more so. As of late, however, they
had been less so, not understanding why, not noticing it really, for they
had everything and with angel out in snow banks as he flipped over and
battled snow cake monsters with his invisible sword, as Jed and Tad
undressed in front of the Christmas tree, lay on the cherry warm hardwood
floor and made love, forgetting angel.
Who was cold and exhausted and so very much alive and so gloriously
beautiful, all gold and ivory and slim and girlish with little tear drop
hips and little penis and balls eager to be used. Jed and Tad love me, he
thought, as he mugged and made faces at the living room window where he
knew his lovers watched him and all hard they were. He wasn't really an
angel of course though his Tad and Jed called him that, as a sobriquet, not
a person name--not that they didn't want him to be a person; they wanted
him more, not as a possession, for names are the first handles they put on
you to make you a human vase; it had happened to them; they did not want it
to happen to him too, though they knew it was a useless cause.
And angel came to the window, wiped some shivery ice off, and huddled his
shoulders and buttocks, cupped both quivery hands round his genitals, as he
watched his friends make love as he masturbated, too young to cum. You
never find anyone wanting to stay more than the appointed minute in a bus
station. You hope for nothing but an end to dust and diesel fumes and
broken wings folded halfway down your small hurting back in the dark and
over those massive grinding wheels. And angel tried to hide the dark
smudges inside his glow of light body. It had been little experience for
him as well as for Jed and Tad, but they were four years older than he and
had dark heavy pubic hair and long penises with magic cum that still
startled and surprised him as he delighted in jerking them off as they came
on his face and lips, then they 3 spermy kissed.
As angel sat in the snow, hearing them inside, holding his shrinking cold
like everywhere else penis, he knew he had failed again. Angels were
supposed to come without complications, especially ones that interfered
with happiness and the joy of feeling good for the sake of it. He heard Tad
and Jed, now clothed, coming outside. He lay on his back, eyes of blue ice
tightly closed. They lay on each side of him. Tad took off his heavy coat
and eased angel into it. They snuggled with him. Angel wished he were not
dark and sad inside. He tried so hard to be fun. He tried to be a little
puppy who was pleasing and adorable and cuddly. Angels should not have
nightmares. They should be of pink morning skies, not solid ground of dark
surround.
The boys carried him inside and the forever 3 made love and it was fun like
the first time with 2 then angel enhanced--for a time. They fell entangled
in the large bed spent and asleep. A few hours later, Tad awoke. He lay
quite still. Not daring to accidentally wake Jed. Tad heard. Tad held his
penis and softly stroked it like when he was a small child suddenly awake
in the cold dark and alone. He hated that memory and would do anything to
avoid even the slightest semblance of it again. Anything. This time would
always be the easiest of all the times to come.
All it involved was the closing of the front door on the snows cape, ice
and bitter wind hurrying away. Then he went naked to the kitchen and made
coffee. It was easier than Tad had even thought. Jed didn't even ask. Bus
stations are for going away. Not for memories.
(Happy Holidays to Nifty, to David, to kind persons who read my words and
were so gracious to let me read theirs. Especially to that first person who
told me a story of mine made him realize he was not alone in the world, and
who made me realize I wasn't either. I hope to be back soon.)